


an interlude of passing fancy

by ElasticElla



Series: fate's broken circle [2]
Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Alternate Canon, M/M, anti-downworlder sentiment, given canon it's pretty light, idk if there's a better tag tldr it's raj's pov
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-08
Updated: 2018-02-08
Packaged: 2019-03-15 08:17:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,126
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13609305
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElasticElla/pseuds/ElasticElla
Summary: Ferdinand Taylor of the Council gets up on the podium for afifthspeech, and with a groan, Raj refills his wine glass to the tippy-top. There’s no way he’s staying sober for more of this.





	an interlude of passing fancy

**Author's Note:**

> i know i know the camille/kaelie fic was supposed to be next, but i got sick and idk this happened and is set before it chronologically anyways. fingers crossed on the c/k going up tomorrow sometime O:)

Something’s not quite right.

And it isn’t just that they’ve allowed more downworlders into the Institute than have ever been on this ground before. There’s something _off_ about the celebration, and Raj hates that he can’t put his finger on it. 

Something clearly that only the higher ups know- while he doubts the High Inquisitor ever lets her hair down, she does seem more perturbed than a party calls for. And then there’s Victor. Perfectly charming, perfectly perfect Victor Aldertree. 

Victor almost gets away with the illusion. Smiling at guests and seamlessly moving throughout the room to talk with all the important people. But there’s a little nervousness in his jaw, the way his smile looks almost like a warning with too many teeth. Victor knows whatever it is. The others don’t, everyone else is drinking and semi-mingling. Isabelle is talking with the faerie and the fake Valentine spawn. 

While Raj understands Isabelle doesn’t care for her name or reputation, he doesn’t understand why the Clary girl doesn’t. Perhaps she integrated in with the mundane world too well and has forgotten what it means to be a shadowhunter. (And how odd is it that they haven’t used her real name yet?)

Ferdinand Taylor of the Council gets up on the podium for a _fifth_ speech, and with a groan, Raj refills his wine glass to the tippy-top. There’s no way he’s staying sober for more of this. 

Taylor goes on about community and partnerships, and Raj sips every time he says ‘together’. It’s weird how much he’s pushing the cooperation aspect, it doesn’t make any sense. Things should go back to normal with Valentine dead, no need to worry about downworlders uprising or internal disputes on how best to deal with him. 

And then he remembers Clary went to kill Valentine with a group of downworlders- that must be why the speech is so odd. He blames the wine for the reasoning taking so long, and upends the bottle into his glass. Sitting at the bar was definitely the right decision- maybe he can even leave early. 

“Easy tiger, save some for the next speech,” a voice jokes, and Raj isn’t at all surprised to find an amused Victor has joined him. 

“Shouldn’t you be sucking up the Council and friends?” 

“And miss your tiltilating company?”

Raj snorts, “I know you have a checklist in your little book.” 

Victor’s smile goes aloof, “I have completed tonight’s shmoozing quota.”

“Just in time for the finale speeches, extra long and fun.” 

Victor doesn’t verbally confirm or deny, but he does reach over the bar to grab a glass and a mostly-full bottle of rum.

“One must celebrate what victories the fickle fates allow us,” Victor drawls, clinking their glasses, and Raj can’t help laughing into his own. Victor doesn’t help either- the traitor- his eyes just fucking glittering like Raj’s laughter was his end goal. 

“Was that,” Raj swallows the amusement that still bubbles in his chest. “What kind of line is that? Tell me it doesn’t work.” 

He grins, and up close, fuck- Raj is drunk. That’s the only reason he’s noticing how very sharp Victor’s canine’s are, how very much he’d like to feel them. He was wrong before- it isn’t too many teeth, it’s too few. A wolf always needs more teeth-

Drunk. He sure as hell isn’t pale, fair, or a maiden in any sense of the word. He isn’t wearing a silly red hood or- it doesn’t matter. Real life, not fantasy. 

“You’d rather I use lines that work?”

“By all means,” Raj says, because drunk him doesn’t give a damn about anything, certainly not any sense of decorum. 

Victor leans in, breath tickling his ear, and Raj’s eyes are suddenly on the gathering all too aware of what they look like. But angel’s mercy, not a single person gives a damn or looks back. A few are actually still listening to Taylor, most are quietly chatting with one another. There’s some dancing in the adjacent room, and they expected that when inviting in such people. 

“The things I would like to do to you…” Victor says, letting the sentence hang. A single hand slides up his right leg, and Raj is frozen- too turned on for this just to be a joke, but too nervous that it really is. 

“Would require you to take one of the sobriety pills with me tonight,” Victor continues, fingers skimming ever higher and Raj can’t fucking breathe- he’s so close, his skin tingling more and more. 

“And to directly report to a new superior, outside the bedroom.” 

Arousal and laughter crash together at that line, Raj grinning and clinging to the latter. “No way. No way anyone goes home with you after that corny superior bullshit.” 

Victor shrugs, and his hand is gone, an unwelcome coldness. Surroundings come back again as some people clap, more joining in, and Victor stands. 

“Last one already?” Raj asks. 

He nods, “Closing speech. There was supposed to be a dessert hour, but with how late the speeches ran that seems foolish.” 

“Well, lucky for you I might have reserved a cheesecake.” 

Victor’s eyes brighten, “Oh really? Away from the public event, that sounds rather like breaking the rules.”

“Mhmm,” Raj agrees, standing as well. “While we eat you can tell me all about how you scored some drugs that are, shall we say, breaking the rules?” 

His lips curl up, and he squeezes Raj’s elbow, “I’m sure you’ll enjoy the confiscated materials even more when you learn who had them.” 

“To be clear, I’ll be there in _spite_ of your line, not because of it.” 

Victor grins, “Long as you’re there, what else matters?” 

He turns away with one last squeeze, and it’s total bullshit. Everything else matters obviously, or they would have just made out in front of the whole Institute. (There are more eyes on them, well Victor, now that they feel the end nearing.) It’s bullshit, because Victor really shouldn’t be allowed to look so damn good. He's too easy to follow with his eyes, tracking the sharp lines of his black suit.

Victor reaches the podium, and Raj slips out. He has just enough time to grab the cheesecake, sneak into Victor’s, and shower. 

He still isn’t sure what the hell was going down at that party, but honestly- he doesn’t care. Caring about minor shit like that, making all messes your own, he’s too old for that. The Council knows what they’re doing, and Victor’s way more qualified than any of the blatant nepotist short-term heads they had. 

Tonight might not be some fairy-tale, but it _is_ a dream. Convoluted and confusing, beautiful and decadent, and by the angel, is Raj happy to be alive.


End file.
